Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep...

The idea of having a home studio for audio recording is going to be essential as it has taken me countless hours to redo audio recordings because of sudden ambient noise that can't be edited out of the final work without just redoing the audio recording in that spot.

But even if I do a spot correction, it never sounds quite the same as when I did the recording the first time round because of the conditions of the ambient noise then differs between takes.

It's kind of a delicate process, I think--when you don't have a home studio where you could lock yourself in for hours and just hit the recording out.

I don't have a home studio currently.

Instead, I have windows. And not double-paned! And thin doors. And a garrulous partner. And lots and lots of delivery trucks nearby. Who do lots and lots of deliveries. 

Now, let me tell you about these delivery trucks. I think by now I can tell when the driver does not know how to park their vehicle for delivery because I have seen it when I go out and then I match that memory to what I hear later in the hours I record audio.

Beep-beep-beep-beep. 

A pause. Beep-beep-beep-beep.  A longer pause. Beep-beep-beep. A paus--beep-beep-beep-beep-beep. A pause. Beep-Beep-Beep-beep...

This is just from one truck, I tell you. 

It's a cacophony of beeps when more than one truck is trying to park at the same time where they don't seem to know how to back it in without a thousand takes. 

It's a nightmare for the nerves, I tell you.

I'm usually pretty good about ignoring these sounds because I'm pretty easygoing, I think. But ever since I got into audio. Ever since I started learning to edit my audio recordings and discovered the immense difficulty of removing sounds that are random. Well. That's when something just sort of, you know, snapped. 

When I'm reading and getting into some kind of emotive rhythm in the reading, it's like suddenly, any interruption of any kind (a door closing outside these thin walls, the flushing of the toilet or the shower drain audibly swishing down the pipes in the unit above me, or the damn delivery trucks backing into a space multiple times like they don't know how to park), I've become a jumpy maniac to little noises when I record.

I've become sensitive to noises. What gives?

I was so insensitive or desensitized to such city noises. 

But I then imagine, what must it be like to be in a padded cave?

It'll have no windows of light. No ambient noise--kind of like an underground capsule, and no sounds of human or urban life. 

I'm getting a little nervous.

I can certainly get into a blind groove and not come out for air, so to speak, for long hours when I'm doing something like audio, but it's like a voluntary cutting off of one's self from the world during the regular daytime.

Could that really be so good for one's mental and social health?

I don't know. I'll definitely be keeping up with my vitamin D supplements, I suppose.

And I'm at the beginning of my audio journey, and I also need to make a living. So I guess if that means it'll be a little cave-like for a while in some not-so-far future, I think I'm naturally built for that anyway. Apparently, my zodiac signs are conducive for dark and enveloping places.